"And you know," she continued, "that you have quite deserted me for the
last ten days for your great acquaintances."
"I have been to play chess with Lord Knightsbridge, who has the gout."
"And to drink tea constantly with that American lady; and you have
written verses in her album; and in Lavinia's album; and as I saw that
you had quite thrown me off, why I--my brother approves of it highly;
and--and Captain Hicks likes you very much, and says you amuse him very
much--indeed he does," says the arch little wretch. And then she added
a postscript, as it were to her letter, which contained, as usual, the
point which she wished to urge:--
"You--won't break it to mamma--will you be so kind? My brother will do
that"--and I promised her; and she ran away, kissing her hand to me. And
I did not say a word to Lady Kicklebury, and not above a thousand people
at Noirbourg knew that Miss Kicklebury and Captain Hicks were engaged.
And now let those who are too confident of their virtue listen to
the truthful and melancholy story which I have to relate, and humble
themselves, and bear in mind that the most perfect among us are
occasionally liable to fall. Kicklebury was not perfect,--I do not
defend his practice. He spent a great deal more time and money than was
good for him at M. Lenoir's gaming-table, and the only thing which the
young fellow never lost was his good humor. If Fortune shook her swift
wings and fled away from him, he laughed at the retreating pinions, and
you saw him dancing and laughing as gayly after losing a rouleau, as if
he was made of money, and really had the five thousand a year which
his mother said was the amount of the Kicklebury property. But when her
ladyship's jointure, and the young ladies' allowances, and the interest
of mortgages were paid out of the five thousand a year, I grieve to say
that the gallant Kicklebury's income was to be counted by hundreds and
not by thousands; so that, for any young lady who wants a carriage (and
who can live without one?) our friend the baronet is not a desirable
specimen of bachelors. Now, whether it was that the presence of his
mamma interrupted his pleasures, or certain of her ways did not please
him, or that he had lost all his money at roulette and could afford no
more, certain it is, that after about a fortnight's stay at Noirbourg,
he went off to shoot with Count Einhorn in Westphalia; he and Hicks
parting the dearest of friends, and the baronet going off on a
pony which the captain lent to him. Between him and Millikin, his
brother-in-law, there was not much sympathy: for he pronounced Mr.
Milliken to be what is called a muff; and had never been familiar with
his elder sister Lavinia, of whose poems he had a mean opinion, and who
used to tease and worry him by teaching him French, and telling tales
of him to his mamma, when he was a schoolboy home for the holidays.
Whereas, between the baronet and Miss Fanny there seemed to be the
closest affection: they walked together every morning to the waters;
they joked and laughed with each other as happily as possible. Fanny was
almost ready to tell fibs to screen her brother's malpractices from her
mamma: she cried when she heard of his mishaps, and that he had lost too
much money at the green table; and when Sir Thomas went away, the good
little soul brought him five louis; which was all the money she had:
for you see she paid her mother handsomely for her board; and when her
little gloves and milliner's bills were settled how much was there left
out of two hundred a year? And she cried when she heard that Hicks had
lent Sir Thomas money, and went up and said, "Thank you, Captain Hicks;"
and shook hands with the captain so eagerly, that I thought he was
a lucky fellow, who had a father a wealthy attorney in Bedford Row.
Heighho! I saw how matters were going. The birds MUST sing in the
spring-time, and the flowers bud.
Mrs. Milliken, in her character of invalid, took the advantage of her
situation to have her husband constantly about her, reading to her, or
fetching the doctor to her, or watching her whilst she was dozing, and
so forth; and Lady Kicklebury found the life which this pair led rather
more monotonous than that sort of existence which she liked, and would
leave them alone with Fanny (Captain Hicks not uncommonly coming in to
take tea with the three), whilst her ladyship went to the Redoute to
hear the music, or read the papers, or play a game of whist there.
The newspaper-room at Noirbourg is next to the roulette-room, into which
the doors are always open; and Lady K. would come, with newspaper in
hand, into this play-room, sometimes, and look on at the gamesters.
I have mentioned a little Russian boy, a little imp with the most
mischievous intelligence and good humor in his face, who was suffered by
his parents to play as much as he chose, and who pulled bonbons out of
one pocket and Napoleons out of the other, and seemed to have quite a
diabolical luck at the table.
Lady Kicklebury's terror and interest at seeing this boy were extreme.
She watched him and watched him, and he seemed always to win; and at
last her ladyship put down just a florin--only just one florin--on one
of the numbers at roulette which the little Russian imp was backing.
Number twenty-seven came up, and the croupiers flung over three gold
pieces and five florins to Lady Kicklebury, which she raked up with a
trembling hand.
She did not play any more that night, but sat in the playroom,
pretending to read the Times newspaper; but you could see her eye
peering over the sheet, and always fixed on the little imp of a Russian.
He had very good luck that night, and his winning made her very savage.
As he retired, rolling his gold pieces into his pocket and sucking his
barley-sugar, she glared after him with angry eyes; and went home, and
scolded everybody, and had no sleep. I could hear her scolding. Our
apartments in the Tissisch House overlooked Lady Kicklebury's suite of
rooms: the great windows were open in the autumn. Yes; I could hear her
scolding, and see some other people sitting whispering in the embrasure,
or looking out on the harvest moon.
The next evening, Lady Kicklebury shirked away from the concert; and I
saw her in the play-room again, going round and round the table; and,
lying in ambush behind the Journal des Debats, I marked how, after
looking stealthily round, my lady whipped a piece of money under the
croupier's elbow, and (there having been no coin there previously) I saw
a florin on the Zero.
She lost that, and walked away. Then she came back and put down two
florins on a number, and lost again, and became very red and angry; then
she retreated, and came back a third time, and a seat being vacated by a
player, Lady Kicklebury sat down at the verdant board. Ah me! She had
a pretty good evening, and carried off a little money again that night.
The next day was Sunday: she gave two florins at the collection at
church, to Fanny's surprise at mamma's liberality. On this night of
course there was no play. Her ladyship wrote letters, and read a sermon.
But the next night she was back at the table; and won very plentifully,
until the little Russian sprite made his appearance, when it seemed that
her luck changed. She began to bet upon him, and the young Calmuck lost
too. Her ladyship's temper went along with her money: first she backed
the Calmuck, and then she played against him. When she played against
him, his luck turned; and he began straightway to win. She put on more
and more money as she lost: her winnings went: gold came out of secret
pockets. She had but a florin left at last, and tried it on a number,
and failed. She got up to go away. I watched her, and I watched Mr.
Justice Aeacus, too, who put down a Napoleon when he thought nobody was
looking.
The next day my Lady Kicklebury walked over to the money-changers, where
she changed a couple of circular notes. She was at the table that night
again: and the next night, and the next night, and the next.
By about the fifth day she was like a wild woman. She scolded so, that
Hirsch, the courier, said he should retire from monsieur's service, as
he was not hired by Lady Kicklebury: that Bowman gave warning, and told
another footman in the building that he wouldn't stand the old cat no
longer, blow him if he would: that the maid (who was a Kicklebury girl)
and Fanny cried: and that Mrs. Milliken's maid, Finch, complained to
her mistress, who ordered her husband to remonstrate with her mother.
Milliken remonstrated with his usual mildness, and, of course, was
routed by her ladyship. Mrs. Milliken said, "Give me the daggers," and
came to her husband's rescue. A battle royal ensued; the scared Milliken
hanging about his blessed Lavinia, and entreating and imploring her to
be calm. Mrs. Milliken WAS calm. She asserted her dignity as mistress
of her own family: as controller of her own household, as wife of her
adored husband; and she told her mamma, that with her or here she must
not interfere; that she knew her duty as a child: but that she also knew
it as a wife, as a-- The rest of the sentence was drowned, as Milliken,
rushing to her, called her his soul's angel, his adored blessing.
Lady Kicklebury remarked that Shakspeare was very right in stating how
much sharper than a thankless tooth it is to have a serpent child.
Mrs. Milliken said, the conversation could not be carried on in this
manner: that it was best her mamma should now know, once for all, that
the way in which she assumed the command at Pigeoncot was intolerable;
that all the servants had given warning, and it was with the greatest
difficulty they could be soothed: and that, as their living together
only led to quarrels and painful recriminations (the calling her, after
her forbearance, A SERPENT CHILD, was an expression which she would hope
to forgive and forget,) they had better part.
Lady Kicklebury wears a front, and, I make no doubt, a complete jasey;
or she certainly would have let down her back hair at this minute, so
overpowering were her feelings, and so bitter her indignation at her
daughter's black ingratitude. She intimated some of her sentiments, by
ejaculatory conjurations of evil. She hoped her daughter might NOT feel
what ingratitude was; that SHE might never have children to turn on her
and bring her to the grave with grief.
"Bring me to the grave with fiddlestick!" Mrs. Milliken said with some
asperity. "And, as we are going to part, mamma, and as Horace has paid
EVERYTHING on the journey as yet, and we have only brought a VERY few
circular notes with us, perhaps you will have the kindness to give him
your share of the travelling expenses--for you, for Fanny, and your
two servants whom you WOULD bring with you: and the man has only been a
perfect hindrance and great useless log, and our courier has had to do
EVERYTHING. Your share is now eighty-two pounds."
Lady Kicklebury at this gave three screams, so loud that even the
resolute Lavinia stopped in her speech. Her ladyship looked wildly:
"Lavinia! Horace! Fanny my child," she said, "come here, and listen to
your mother's shame."
"What?" cried Horace, aghast.
"I am ruined! I am a beggar! Yes; a beggar. I have lost all--all at
yonder dreadful table."
"How do you mean all? How much is all?" asked Horace.
"All the money I brought with me, Horace. I intended to have paid
the whole expenses of the journey: yours, this ungrateful
child's--everything. But, a week ago, having seen a lovely baby's lace
dress at the lace-shop; and--and--won enough at wh--wh--whoo--ist to
pay for it, all but two--two florins--in an evil moment I went to the
roulette-table--and lost--every shilling: and now, on may knees before
you, I confess my shame."
I am not a tragic painter, and certainly won't attempt to depict THIS
harrowing scene. But what could she mean by saying she wished to pay
everything? She had but two twenty-pound notes: and how she was to
have paid all the expenses of the tour with that small sum, I cannot
conjecture.
The confession, however, had the effect of mollifying poor Milliken and
his wife: after the latter had learned that her mamma had no money at
all at her London bankers', and had overdrawn her account there,
Lavinia consented that Horace should advance her fifty pounds upon her
ladyship's solemn promise of repayment.
And now it was agreed that this highly respectable lady should return
to England, quick as she might: somewhat sooner than all the rest of the
public did; and leave Mr. and Mrs. Horace Milliken behind her, as the
waters were still considered highly salutary to that most interesting
invalid. And to England Lady Kicklebury went; taking advantage of
Lord Talboys' return thither to place herself under his lordship's
protection; as if the enormous Bowman was not protector sufficient for
her ladyship; and as if Captain Hicks would have allowed any mortal man,
any German student, any French tourist, any Prussian whiskerando, to do
a harm to Miss Fanny! For though Hicks is not a brilliant or poetical
genius, I am bound to say that the fellow has good sense, good manners,
and a good heart; and with these qualities, a competent sum of money,
and a pair of exceedingly handsome moustaches, perhaps the poor little
Mrs. Launcelot Hicks may be happy.
No accident befell Lady Kicklebury on her voyage homewards: but she got
one more lesson at Aix-la-Chapelle, which may serve to make her ladyship
more cautious for the future: for, seeing Madame la Princesse de Mogador
enter into a carriage on the railway, into which Lord Talboys followed,
nothing would content Lady Kicklebury but to rush into the carriage
after this noble pair; and the vehicle turned out to be what is called
on the German lines, and what I wish were established in England, the
Rauch Coupe. Having seated himself in this vehicle, and looked rather
sulkily at my lady, Lord Talboys began to smoke: which, as the son of
an English earl, heir to many thousands per annum, Lady Kicklebury
permitted him to do. And she introduced herself to Madame la Princesse
de Mogador, mentioning to her highness that she had the pleasure of
meeting Madame la Princesse at Rougetnoirbourg; that she, Lady K., was
the mother of the Chevalier de Kicklebury, who had the advantage of
the acquaintance of Madame la Princesse; and that she hoped Madame la
Princesse had enjoyed her stay at the waters. To these advances
the Princess of Mogador returned a gracious and affable salutation,
exchanging glances of peculiar meaning with two highly respectable
bearded gentlemen who travelled in her suite; and, when asked by milady
whereabouts her highness's residence was at Paris, said that her hotel
was in the Rue Notre Dame de Lorette: where Lady Kicklebury hoped to
have the honor of waiting upon Madame la Princesse de Mogador.
But when one of the bearded gentlemen called the princess by the
familiar name of Fifine, and the other said, "Veux-tu fumer, Mogador?"
and the princess actually took a cigar and began to smoke, Lady
Kicklebury was aghast, and trembled; and presently Lord Talboys burst
into a loud fit of laughter.
"What is the cause of your lordship's amusement?" asked the dowager,
looking very much frightened, and blushing like a maiden of sixteen.
"Excuse me, Lady Kicklebury, but I can't help it," he said. "You've
been talking to your opposite neighbor--she don't understand a word
of English--and calling her princess and highness, and she's no more
a princess than you or I. She is a little milliner in the street she
mentioned, and she dances at Mabille and Chateau Rouge."
Hearing these two familiar names, the princess looked hard at Lord
Talboys, but he never lost countenance; and at the next station Lady
Kicklebury rushed out of the smoking-carriage and returned to her own
place; where, I dare say, Captain Hicks and Miss Fanny were delighted
once more to have the advantage of her company and conversation. And so
they went back to England, and the Kickleburys were no longer seen on
the Rhine. If her ladyship is not cured of hunting after great people,
it will not be for want of warning: but which of us in life has not had
many warnings: and is it for lack of them that we stick to our little
failings still?
When the Kickleburys were gone, that merry little Rougetnoirbourg did
not seem the same place to me, somehow. The sun shone still, but the
wind came down cold from the purple hills; the band played, but their
tunes were stale; the promenaders paced the alleys, but I knew all their
faces: as I looked out of my windows in the Tissisch house upon the
great blank casements lately occupied by the Kickleburys, and remembered
what a pretty face I had seen looking thence but a few days back, I
cared not to look any longer; and though Mrs. Milliken did invite me to
tea, and talked fine arts and poetry over the meal, both the beverage
and the conversation seemed very weak and insipid to me, and I fell
asleep once in my chair opposite that highly cultivated being. "Let us
go back, Lankin," said I to the Serjeant, and he was nothing loth;
for most of the other serjeants, barristers, and Queen's counsel were
turning homewards, by this time, the period of term time summoning them
all to the Temple.
So we went straight one day to Biberich on the Rhine, and found the
little town full of Britons, all trooping home like ourselves. Everybody
comes, and everybody goes away again, at about the same time. The
Rhine innkeepers say that their customers cease with a single day
almost:--that in three days they shall have ninety, eighty, a hundred
guests; on the fourth, ten or eight. We do as our neighbors do. Though
we don't speak to each other much when we are out a-pleasuring, we take
our holiday in common, and go back to our work in gangs. Little Biberich
was so full, that Lankin and I could not get rooms at the large inns
frequented by other persons of fashion, and could only procure a room
between us, "at the German House, where you find English comfort," says
the advertisement, "with German prices."
But oh, the English comfort of those beds! How did Lankin manage in
his, with his great long legs? How did I toss and tumble in mine; which,
small as it was, I was not destined to enjoy alone, but to pass the
night in company with anthropophagous wretched reptiles, who took their
horrid meal off an English Christian! I thought the morning would never
come; and when the tardy dawn at length arrived, and as I was in my
first sleep, dreaming of Miss Fanny, behold I was wakened up by the
Serjeant, already dressed and shaven, and who said, "Rise, Titmarsh,
the steamer will be here in three-quarters of an hour." And the modest
gentleman retired, and left me to dress.
The next morning we had passed by the rocks and towers, the old familiar
landscapes, the gleaming towns by the riverside, and the green vineyards
combed along the hills, and when I woke up, it was at a great hotel at
Cologne, and it was not sunrise yet.
Deutz lay opposite, and over Deutz the dusky sky was reddened. The hills
were veiled in the mist and the gray. The gray river flowed underneath
us; the steamers were roosting along the quays, a light keeping watch in
the cabins here and there, and its reflections quivering in the water.
As I look, the sky-line towards the east grows redder and redder. A long
troop of gray horsemen winds down the river road, and passes over the
bridge of boats. You might take them for ghosts, those gray horsemen,
so shadowy do they look; but you hear the trample of their hoofs as
they pass over the planks. Every minute the dawn twinkles up into the
twilight; and over Deutz the heaven blushes brighter. The quays begin
to fill with men: the carts begin to creak and rattle, and wake the
sleeping echoes. Ding, ding, ding, the steamers' bells begin to ring:
the people on board to stir and wake: the lights may be extinguished,
and take their turn of sleep: the active boats shake themselves, and
push out into the river: the great bridge opens, and gives them passage:
the church bells of the city begin to clink: the cavalry trumpets blow
from the opposite bank: the sailor is at the wheel, the porter at his
burden, the soldier at his musket, and the priest at his prayers. . . .
And lo! in a flash of crimson splendor, with blazing scarlet clouds
running before his chariot, and heralding his majestic approach, God's
sun rises upon the world, and all nature wakens and brightens.
O glorious spectacle of light and life! O beatific symbol of Power,
Love, Joy, Beauty! Let us look at thee with humble wonder, and
thankfully acknowledge and adore. What gracious forethought is it--what
generous and loving provision, that deigns to prepare for our eyes and
to soothe our hearts with such a splendid morning festival! For these
magnificent bounties of heaven to us, let us be thankful, even that we
can feel thankful--(for thanks surely is the noblest effort, as it is
the greatest delight, of the gentle soul)--and so, a grace for this
feast, let all say who partake of it.
See! the mist clears off Drachenfels, and it looks out from the
distance, and bids us a friendly farewell. Farewell to holiday and
sunshine; farewell to kindly sport and pleasant leisure! Let us say
good-by to the Rhine, friend. Fogs, and cares, and labor are awaiting
us by the Thames; and a kind face or two looking out for us to cheer and
bid us welcome.